


Elbow Grease

by gooseclaws



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - engineers, Challenge Response, Dirty Hands, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Mechanical Engineer Nicole Haught, Sales Engineer Waverly Earp, a vain attempt to make engineering sexy, gays who can do math, look I didn't have a choice and I'm sorry, the mechanical engineer au someone actually wanted, various and sundry lubricants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 01:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19897762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooseclaws/pseuds/gooseclaws
Summary: Mechanical engineer Nicole Haught's always butting heads with sales engineer Waverly Earp. The only time she seems to have an advantage is when she gets her hands dirty.





	Elbow Grease

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delayne/gifts), [LuckyWantsToKnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyWantsToKnow/gifts), [BaggerHeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaggerHeda/gifts).



> Why on god's green earth did I write this? Long story short, I stuck my big ol' schnoz into someone else's twitter conversation and found myself on the receiving end of a challenge: write a Mechanical Engineer AU by EH Con 2019. So here y'all go, one MEAU from an IRL mechanical engineer.
> 
> Thanks to Delayne for starting the conversation that drew me in like a moth to a flame, and thanks to Lucky for challenging me to write this. EDIT: And thanks to Boo, the other party to that conversation!!

Nicole Haught stood in the middle of the production floor, arms crossed, and glared daggers at the sales engineer standing across from her. Waverly Earp threw the glare right back, hands propped on her hips and muscle ticking in her jaw.

"They're not ready," said Nicole. "These are still prototypes, you can't just promise orders to people."

"What's holding them back?" Waverly swept her hand toward the benches where the production workers were trying not to look like they were listening to the very loud, very aggressive conversation. "We've been selling small batches to our biggest customers for years."

"And you've been getting complaints for years. They run too hot and they jam up."

"Didn't you solve that problem?" 

Between Waverly Earp and the banging, whirring and clacking of the assembly line, a monster headache had started brewing behind Nicole's eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose and glared at Waverly again.

Of course, Waverly had chosen to braid her hair that day; the braid trailed over one shoulder, leaving the silhouette of Waverly's neck exposed. Nicole ground her teeth.

"I've been trying," she said, "but marketing keeps moving the goal posts! Add a seal, add a sensor! Total redesign! I've got whiplash."

"Our product needs those features to compete in the market. What's the point of releasing something that won't sell?"

"We'll never release anything at all if you people don't give me a chance to finish something! Pick a set of requirements and stick to it!"

"We're not the enemy, Haught," said Waverly. "We're a team."

"Well, you're sure not acting like it. If you want my prototypes, you have to talk to me first. Don't just drop in and assume you can take them."

Xavier Dolls' voice sounded over the PA system. "Nicole Haught, dial one-one-three-eight. Haught, one-one-three-eight."

"Saved by the bell," said Waverly.

"This isn't over," said Nicole, and she turned on her heel to go find a phone.

* * *

It wasn't Waverly's fault, Nicole reasoned the next morning, as she stood at a workbench breaking apart a motor. It was this ass-backwards company, at the mercy of owner Bobo del Rey and his whims. They'd hired Nicole out from under Black Badge Division Motors, where she was used to more structure. Better results. There was a way things should be done, basic principles that had to be followed, and nobody here had any goddamn respect for the rules.

Nicole peered at the innards of the motor, frowning. She stuck her finger inside, running it along the inner wall of the cavity. It came away slick with oil and silver particles. Oil she expected; metal dust she didn't.

"Something's rubbing inside you, pal," she muttered to the motor. "What's causing that, huh?"

Her mind drifted back to her coworkers. Waverly just rubbed her the wrong way, she thought. Change should be good. God knew they needed some change. But she just couldn't let go of the shoot first, ask questions later culture that had festered at Revenant Corp. 

They'd poached Dolls from BBD, too; he'd lured Nicole after him. Waverly didn't like him, either, but she respected him. Nicole wondered how he'd managed it.

Nicole set the motor down, wiping sweat from her forehead. They really needed to get someone in to look at the AC.

"Hey, Nicole?" said someone behind her.

Nicole turned to find Waverly, looking infuriatingly good in a tucked-in button-up shirt and her hair swept into a ponytail. As she turned, Waverly's eyes went wide, darting from Nicole's face to her shirt to her hands.

"Hey," said Nicole, reaching for a rag to wipe oil from her fingers. "What's up?"

"I, um," said Waverly. "Uh."

Nicole lifted an eyebrow. "You okay, Earp?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm fine. You've got some... on your forehead." Waverly tapped her own forehead, eyes lifting to the matching spot on Nicole's.

Nicole shrugged. "I'll wash it off later. I'm kind of a lost cause today anyway." She displayed her stained fingers and the smudge on her own nice button-up that was probably permanent. "So? What's up?"

"Oh, right. I came to tell you, I talked to Dolls. We're going ahead with the shipment."

Nicole ground her teeth. "You could have brought me in on that conversation."

"Look, talk to Dolls if you have a problem with it. He's the director of engineering... I just told him my opinion and he agreed with me."

"If Dolls says we're shipping, we're shipping." Nicole pushed her hair back from her face, running her fingers over her scalp. Waverly's eyes followed the motion, then flicked back down to meet Nicole's.

"Okay, well, I should let you get back to... that," said Waverly, gesturing at the disemboweled motor on the bench behind Nicole.

"Wait," said Nicole. She leaned back against the bench, crossing her arms. "I'd appreciate it if you keep me in the loop in the future. We're probably going to disagree a lot, but I should be part of these discussions."

Waverly sighed. "You're right. I shouldn't have gone behind your back."

"I'm an engineer, I'm always right." 

"Oh, ha ha," said Waverly, the corners of her lips betraying a smile. "If that were true, we'd never have any disagreements. Don't forget, I'm an engineer, too. Anyway, don't you have work to do?"

"I was working. You interrupted me." She lifted her hands. "See? I've been getting my hands dirty and everything."

Waverly made a choked little noise, then coughed. "I'm fine," she said through the fit. "Just... dust or... something. I'll, um, I'll leave you to that."

She hurried away, heels clacking on the waxed floor, leaving Nicole scratching her head in her wake.

* * *

They called a truce and abided by it for the most part.

Waverly kept Nicole involved in discussions about sales goals and priorities. Nicole grumbled less when sales asked for field test units and prototypes. Dolls let them circle each other like territorial animals, snapping at each other's heels, only intervening if they started to push the bounds of workplace civility.

Slowly, the truce turned into a begrudging partnership. Nicole tossed an occasional idea Waverly's way for her input. Waverly picked Nicole's brain about customer needs and new technologies that could differentiate their products on the market.

Nicole had left a productive meeting that morning with Waverly and the rest of the engineering team, discussing a new project they were hoping to kick off soon. Things had really come around, she thought. They'd exchanged some genuine smiles.

Smiles that had left her glad she was sitting; if she'd tried to stand, her weak knees would have sent her crashing to the floor.

She bustled around the machine shop, trying to get herself set up on the lathe. She had her material, her drawing, her coolant. Where was the tool she needed? Nothing was ever where it should be in the Rev Corp. building. Everything got up and wandered away. She might have made progress getting everyone to abide by certain procedures, but their organization still left a lot to be desired.

Eventually, Nicole found the tool she needed and started in on her task, turning down the material and watching chips fly off the part.

Her mind wandered a bit. Back to Waverly, tapping the end of her pen on her notebook, making an absolutely brilliant suggestion for reducing the size of their new product. She was impressive when she wasn't being stubborn. It didn't hurt, Nicole supposed, that Waverly looked amazing in the jacket she'd worn that day, her hair cascading down her back so and a necklace falling just between—

Too much wandering! Too much coolant! Nicole had forgotten a splatter shield and a flood of milky-white coolant flowed off of the part and sprayed her from head to navel. She sputtered, backing the tool off of the part and stepping away.

"God dammit!"

She mopped her forehead with her sleeve, prying her safety glasses off her face. When she turned to toss them on the workbench, she found Waverly Earp standing a few feet away, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Shit," said Nicole. Coolant dripped down her nose and off her lips, splattering on the floor. She wiped her mouth and chin. "You here to watch me make a mess of myself? You've got perfect timing."

"I, um," said Waverly, watching Nicole's mouth. "I didn't..."

"Earp," said Nicole. "I need to wash my face off. Walk with me and turn your brain back on?" She turned off the lathe and brushed past Waverly, heading for the deep-basined sink in the corner. She stuck her face under the faucet, rubbing sticky coolant away with her hands.

Waverly followed her; when Nicole came up for air, Waverly handed her a clean rag. Nicole accepted it with a smile and dabbed her face dry. Waverly met the smile with one of her own, shaking her head as Nicole wiped beneath her chin and down her throat.

"Why," Waverly asked, "are you always wet when I find you down here?"

"I—" Nicole stopped, the definitely not-safe-for-work part of her brain clawing its way to the surface. Her cheeks flushed just as Waverly's eyes went wide.

"Oh no. I didn't mean... I only... fudgenuggets, I wasn't trying... please don't report me for sexual harassment!"

"You didn't—" Nicole wanted to hide behind the rag; she dabbed her forehead. "Calm down, you didn't—it's fine, it's—"

"I'm a harasser. I'm a sexual harasser. I'm going to lose my job."

"Waverly." Nicole reached out, laying her hand on Waverly's shoulder. Waverly stopped babbling instantly; she peered up into Nicole's face, and Nicole's breath caught in her throat. "It's all right. I know what you meant."

They froze in that moment: Waverly staring up at Nicole, industrial lighting glinting in her eyes; Nicole gazing back, wet strands of hair clinging to her skin.

Something clattered in the distance. They took hurried steps back from one another. 

Nicole cleared her throat. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh!" Waverly wrung her hands. "Um, what did I... oh, it was about the coil, I wanted to pick your brain about it. If you have a moment."

Nicole crossed her arms and grinned, leaning back against the sink. "For you, Earp, I've got all the time in the world."

* * *

They'd made good progress on the new product design. Nicole took the stairs two at a time, heading for the sales and marketing department, her newest prototype clutched in her hand. She strode down the hall, plunged into the nest of cubicles, and popped her head into Waverly's office.

Waverly glanced up, snapped one commanding finger in the air, and returned to her phone call.

In Spanish.

Nicole reeled back, eyes going wide. Waverly spoke, the words tumbling over her lips absolutely unintelligible to Nicole. She couldn't understand a whit of it, but it sounded amazing and natural and inviting. For a heartbeat, she saw through Waverly's appearance to the mind within: a brain that could do complex math and understand multiple languages and convince unsure customers to take a chance on their products. All that with a smile that could melt steel.

Nicole's own mind, awed and a little envious, liked what it saw, and it kick-started her body's natural responses.

Still on her call, Waverly laughed and picked up her pen, tapping it against her notebook. She scribbled something, then laughed again, her tone shifting to something conspiratorial, almost teasing.

Nicole shoved her free hand in her pocket, trying to wipe away the sweat.

When Waverly ended the call, she turned her attention back to Nicole with a wink and a grin. "Guess who just made a huge sale?"

"I don't know," said Nicole, her own grin spreading as if she were tumbling down a hill, faster and faster. "Bobo?"

"You're such a jerk." Waverly reached out and shoved Nicole, or tried to; Nicole swatted her hand away but ended up holding it, briefly, before they both let go.

"So," said Nicole, sticking the prototype into the space between them, "I just finished putting this together. What do you think?"

Waverly's eyes widened and she took the motor from Nicole. "You 3D printed these parts?"

"Yup. Looks pretty good, right?"

"It looks amazing. Wow, this is really great work." Waverly turned the motor over and over in her hands, studying every feature. As she inspected it, Nicole shoved both hands in her pockets and shrugged, pride bubbling up within her, threatening to lift her right off her feet. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

"What?" Waverly paused, tearing her mind away from working through Nicole's design. "What do you mean?"

"Well," said Nicole. "You're brilliant."

"Oh, please."

"What? You are. Half of the ideas in that thing, I stole from you. And you speak two languages!"

Waverly shook her head, but her grin clung to her lips, undeterred. "Four, actually."

"Four languages!" Nicole leaned against the wall of the cubicle. "I barely speak one."

"You're brilliant, too—don't you shake your head at me! You are!" Waverly bounced out of her seat and waved the prototype under Nicole's nose. "Look at this! You made this!"

Her feet had brought her just inches from Nicole; Nicole sucked in a breath and the light, floral scent of Waverly's shampoo corroded every useful thought like acid.

Nicole gulped. "Yeah, well... you... um." She blinked.

Waverly winced, then chuckled, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing outright. "Maybe you do need to work on that one language, though."

"Hey!"

* * *

"So you've been getting along a lot better with Earp," said Dolls. He and Nicole sat at the bar in Shorty's, taking advantage of the happy hour specials.

Nicole pulled her beer bottle away from her lips with a pop. "She's not that bad, once you get to know her."

"Not that bad?"

"She's actually a really great engineer." Nicole picked up her coaster and tried to spin it on the bar like a coin. It flopped down flat.

Dolls hummed, sipping his own drink. "I told you when I brought you here, this company has a lot good talent. Sure, they had some bad habits, but nothing that couldn't be unlearned."

"Thanks," she said. "For luring me away. I wasn't sure if I'd made the right decision at first, but I wouldn't change it for anything now."

"I'm glad to hear it." They each worked on their beers, chatting companionably and snacking, until it was time to head home. Outside the bar, Dolls stopped Nicole before she ducked into her car. 

"Are you ever going to ask Earp out on a date?"

She blinked, her cheeks going as red as her hair. "What?"

"Earp. You. A date."

"She's my coworker," she said. "I don't—"

He raised an eyebrow. "So? She's not your boss, and you're not hers. Ask. Her. Out. As your actual boss, you have my permission."

"You're serious? We won't get a talking-to from HR?"

"Dead serious, Haught. Go for it."

A smile swept over her face, bright even in the dying evening light. "I'll think about it." She slid into her seat and pulled the door shut behind her.

He leaned down, face framed in her window, and shouted through the glass. "You better!"

* * *

She spent the weekend considering Dolls' suggestion, and by the following Monday had resolved to do it. She'd ask Waverly out.

Her day was busy; she had barely a moment to speak to Waverly outside of run-of-the-mill work concerns. She ended up staying late, fiddling with one of the engines in the test cells, determined to get her prototype running before she left.

Everyone else had gone. Most of the other lights in the building were off; the glow from her test cell spilled through the heavy door and into the hallway beyond, an island of light in a pitch-black sea.

She stared at the engine, a grumble building in the back of her throat. The engine oil needed changing. She hadn't worn her sloppy clothes; she hadn't expected to be down here making a mess of herself. Unwilling to lose yet another shirt to oil stains, she stripped herself of her button-up and draped it over the chair outside. In her plain white tank top, she crouched beside the engine and unscrewed the plug to let the oil flow out.

It spilled over her fingers. She let it drain, filling the pan she'd set on the floor. She pushed herself upright to grab the new oil filter.

Waverly Earp stood in the doorway, watching.

"Oh," said Nicole. "I didn't realize anyone was still here."

"I was on the phone with a client in another timezone," said Waverly. Her words seemed light, as though her throat had wrung them dry before they could escape. "I thought I was the last one here."

Nicole glanced around for a rag to wipe her hands; she found one, reached for it, and remembered her arms were bare to the shoulder. Her eyes jumped down to her tank top, to her bra just visible through the fabric.

"Shit," she said. "Uh, my shirt's... I'm just gonna..."

She inched toward the door, gesturing wildly. Waverly, still in the doorway, turned and pressed herself against the doorjamb, hands behind her back.

Nicole drew closer. She passed Waverly. Her arm brushed the buttons of Waverly's shirt and she stopped, electricity racing through her body, immobilizing her.

She sucked in a breath and heard an echo from Waverly.

"Sorry," she said, burning through every last bit of air in her lungs.

"It's fine," said Waverly.

Nicole turned to face her, peering down at her. Her heart strained against its leash.

"I'm just going to..." said Waverly, leaning in. Her hand slipped up Nicole's arm, fingers dancing over the curve of Nicole's bicep, and came to a rest on Nicole's shoulder.

"Yeah," said Nicole, swaying toward her. She craned her neck. Waverly lifted herself onto her toes.

Their lips brushed.

Then Waverly's hands were in Nicole's hair, and Nicole's were tight about Waverly's waist. She pushed her back, against the doorjamb, and Waverly reached behind her to guide them around the door and back against the wall. 

Her shoulders struck the painted concrete and she gasped. Nicole caught the gasp, chased it to its source. Waverly's fingers clawed the back of Nicole's neck, anchoring her.

Nicole broke away. "Shit," she said, accenting the word with another kiss. "My hands..." She retreated, holding her stained hands aloft.

Waverly peered at her shirt, marked by Nicole's fingers. Nicole clapped one hand to her forehead, leaving black streaks across her skin.

"I'm so sorry," she said, but Waverly laughed and caught her by the belt, tugging her close again.

"Don't you dare apologize," she said. "Those hands were right where I wanted them."

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I still don't think my job is sexy. I tried my best, but I still regret everything.
> 
> I'm on twitter [@gooseclaws](https://mobile.twitter.com/gooseclaws)


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